


Guessing Game

by commaAbuser



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Earth C (Homestuck), Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, davekat - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-20 03:59:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15525582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commaAbuser/pseuds/commaAbuser
Summary: Dave proposes a game to Karkat so he can guess Karkat's fetishes. It doesn't end how either of them anticipated. Rating it Mature for the discussion/mention of fetishes. Both characters are adults.Un-beta'd, unedited, just for fun.





	Guessing Game

“C'mon bro, we spent all that time on the meteor and then all that time getting life situated here on Earth C, I just don't understand how we haven't talked about it yet,” Dave says, smug, his head thrown back on the side of the couch like he's fed up. 

“I don't want to talk about it,” Karkat asserts through clenched teeth. If Dave could hear subvocal hissing, he would. 

“Dude how are we so close but we can't talk about sexual fetishes? That's fucked up. I gotta be honest with you man, that wounds me a little. I'm bleeding here—”

“Dave, stop,” Karkat warns, his tone lowering as he looks over at his best friend. 

A few minutes pass in tense silence. Neither boy moves from the couch in their shared hive. They're both frowning and looking away from each other, Dave up at the ceiling and Karkat towards the front door. The TV blares Jake English’s ad again and Karkat sighs and shuts it off.

“What if we make it a game?” Dave tries, not moving his head but gesticulating just fine with his hands. 

“What kind of game?” Karkat asks, still obviously frustrated but willing to give Dave a chance, if only out of boredom. 

Dave rapidly sits up straight, as if risen from the dead by Karkat's will to give his zany ideas a chance and he begins, “We get to guess each other's fetishes, and if the guesser is wrong, nothing happens, but if the guesser is right, the loser has to give the guesser something—”

“A kiss,” Karkat suggests quietly, staring at his fidgety feet as he rubs the tip of his shoes against their coffee table. 

Dave pauses, thinking, tapping his finger on his jaw. “That could work, it certainly is—”

Karkat looks into Dave's shades, his red eyes clear and crisp with intent, “It's the only thing I'll accept for participating in this 'game’ of yours, which, by the way, is fucked up.”

“And you suggesting we kiss as a reward isn't fucked up?”

“A kiss is nowhere near as personal as asking what someone faps to, Dave.”

Dave crosses his arms, looking indignant, “Who says that masturbation has anything to do with fetishes, just because you're into something doesn't mean you have to jerk off to two sweaty dudes doing it.”

“Okay then what are you doing with your fetishes, Dave? Painting murals? Volunteering free shows in the park?”

“Don't give me ideas Karkat,” Dave grins, leaning into his best friend's shoulder playfully. 

“When are you going to start this ‘game’, Dave?” Karkat asks, allowing Dave to rest his head on Karkat's shoulder. 

“I thought you didn't want to,” Dave smiles and whispers in Karkat's ear. 

Karkat pushes him away, grimacing and he pouts, crossing his arms. “I want to win the game asshole.”

Dave relaxes, folding his arms behind his head, “Just admit you want to kiss me Karkat. You're the one that suggested kissing, this isn't about winning at all.”

“Yes it is, because if I win, you'll shut up!” 

“Who says?” 

“I said, just now, if I win, you'll kiss me, then drop the topic, no more guessing!”

Dave looks away, bouncing his legs with nervous energy. 

“Deal?” Karkat entreats. 

“Hmm, if I win, do I get anything extra? Something *more* than a kiss?” Dave's smile is sly and charming. 

“You'll get a fucking knuckle sandwich, Dave.”

“How about you go sweaterless for a week if I win?” Dave suggests.

“What the fuck! Are you serious? It's Autumn, it's starting to get cold, Dave, do you want me to freeze?”

“Dude you wear sweaters year-round. I just want to see one week where you don't wear one.”

“Fine,” Karkat agrees with a deep frown, “But if you win and I have to wear t-shirts, I expect you to turn the heat up in here and suffer with it.”

“That's a big old huge deal, hell yes. I'm from Texas, Karkat, you know I'm good for it.”

“I don't know what it means that you're from Texas, you shitstain. Texas ceased to exist a long time ago.”

Dave peers over the rims of his shades at Karkat, watching the other boy and his tense demeanor. “Okay, massages, because you really need one.”

“What? Oh, is that a guess? No. Nice, but no.” Karkat's brow knits together. He can't believe Dave is actually doing this, and of course, inserting his own inane commentary. 'You really need one,’ no shit asshole, and you are the sole reason I do! Karkat groans.

“What's your guess for me? It's your turn!” Dave reminds Karkat in a sing songy tone. 

“Ass,” Karkat replies rolling his eyes. 

Dave snorts, “Me or my fetish?” 

“Try both.”

“Nope, sorry, try again Vantas.”

“How Dave? How is it not ass? I literally catch you staring all the time. It's obscene!” Karkat chides. 

“Because you can't have a fetish for ass, dude, that doesn't exist, the ass is a normal as fuck thing to like, it's inherently sexual.”

“Yeah, to you, because you have a fetish! See! I knew you'd do this, because you don't want to hoofbeast up and admit I've fucking won!”

“Karkat… I don't know how to tell you that a fetish doesn't work like that, but if you really want me to kiss you, I will.”

“No, fuck, just, nevermind,” Karkat growls, gritting his teeth and looking away. Pygophilia is the word, butt fetishes are real. Karkat knows it, he's just flustered and irritated. Some part of him wants Dave to play this game. He knows they both have a mutual 'thing’ for each other and if this is Dave's breakthrough about it to himself, Karkat doesn't want to jeopardize that by arguing semantics. 

“Glasses, you have a glasses fetish,” Dave asserts, resolutely. 

“Is that why you're wearing your stupid ass shades all the time? Because I gotta tell you you're really fucking wrong, douchebag.”

“Hey, I have sensitive eyes I'll have you know,” Dave says with a straight face. 

“That's the practiced answer of all practiced answers,” Karkat rolls his eyes, “So I've liked a few people that happened to wear glasses - it doesn't mean anything.”

Dave shrugs, letting silence pass between them. “Karkat, are you going to guess again?” 

“I really think you like ass, Dave. Let me put it this way, if asses were at all magnetic, those stupid shades of yours would get sucked off within two seconds of us exiting this hive because that's how peeled your eyes are on anything or anyone that has decent junk in their trunk. Including me, so don't think I haven't noticed. If your fetish doesn't involve asses in some way be it fucking them, sucking them, tails, liquids in, liquids out, I'm going to say you don't have a fetish at all.” 

“Damn. I mean I admit it. I love a nice backside but I actually have something in mind that's my real fetish. I don't think you'll guess it though. I'm going to let you guess again since you chose the same one twice,” Dave concedes as he studies Karkat's sleek jawline and long neck. Dave watches Karkat frown deeply. 

“Milfs,” Karkat says with all the hatred and spite he can muster, practically spitting the word out. Karkat hasn't forgotten Dave's long and ridiculous explanation of what a Milf is on the meteor after making several inappropriate comments about them in several of Karkat's favorite movies. 

“Hot, but nope,” Dave answers, but is quick to the rebound, “I figure you might be into some S&M, being a troll.” 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, assbrain?” Karkat retorts. 

“Sadism and Masochism, mate,” Dave replies, shrugging. 

“I know what the acronym stands for dipshit, I meant the comment about ‘being a troll,’ what do you mean by that?” Karkat narrows his eyes at Dave, he’s now facing him, his knees pointed right at Dave’s knees, confrontational. 

“Spades bullshit, pain, whatever, I thought you’d know what I meant by that,” Dave responds, his hands up in the air. He’s rolling his red eyes behind his glasses but Karkat can’t see that. “I guess you’re not into it or you would’ve gotten all weird.” 

Karkat huffs, but doesn’t change his body’s positioning. Dave is being really irritating. “Not all expressions of black romance involve physical pain, Dave Strider.” 

“Yeah I got it,” Dave enunciates, staring at Karkat out of the corner of his eye. He knows this song and dance pretty well by now. “What’s your guess for me, Karkat?”  
“Panties,” Karkat grunts, as if all the wind has been taken out of his sails. He doesn’t care, Dave obviously is hungry for the win, he’s just going to throw out reasonable guesses now. 

Dave laughs, and considers it, holding his hand on his chin like a dork. “Hmm, good imagery. Why did you guess that?” 

“If it’s not ass, maybe it’s something that covers the ass?” Karkat growls out, mumbly and disinterested. He feels like telling Dave to take his kiss. That thought makes him bite his lip and look down at the table with his gallsphincter full of sparking nerves. The truth is, they kissed once before, on the meteor, right before they were going to go fight. It was sudden, and never mentioned afterwards. Karkat hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it since. There’s a period of silence before Dave speaks again.

“Maybe you just like vanilla sex, maybe that’s your kink, some nice slow lovemaking, maybe some body worship, to be lovingly loved all lovey dovey, to have that shit be so tender it makes you cry,” Dave jeers, and it’s obviously a joke at first, until he notices the expression on Karkat’s face. 

Karkat swallows hard and removes his sweater to reveal a tank top with his symbol emblazoned on it underneath. His face is completely red, almost glowing. There’s a soft chittering in his chest. “Close enough, you win Dave, I hope you’re proud of yourself,” He manages in a low voice, his gaze avoiding Dave’s face entirely. 

Dave would laugh, but he’s honestly thrilled by the sight of Karkat’s bare arms, his collarbones, and the soft curve of his belly. This tank top leaves nothing to the imagination whatsoever. Karkat is both more slender and soft than Dave had previously imagined. The sweater is bulky and doesn’t do Karkat any favors, though Dave assumes looking bigger and possibly more muscular was part of its purpose, troll society being what it was. Dave slides to Karkat and throws his arm around the small grumpy troll. “Where do you want me to kiss you?” He whispers into Karkat’s ear. 

“Where?” Karkat mouths softly, his eyes going wide in shock. 

“Yeah, where,” Dave continues, poking Karkat’s cheek. 

“I’m supposed to deliver the kiss, aren’t I?” Karkat screeches, his pupils dilating as he looks into the reflective surface of Dave’s shades. 

“Then how come you haven’t yet?” Dave grins. 

Karkat quickly moves to kiss Dave, his blood pusher thundering in his chest hard, the cacophony of it echoing into his auriculars. He means to kiss Dave on the lips, but instead scores the side of the lip and Dave’s cheek, feeling only a split second of warmth and softness and then pulling away, his face on fire with embarrassment. 

“I want a redo!” Dave exclaims, “That was barely a kiss!” 

“Too bad!” Karkat nearly stutters, his fingers splayed and pressed against his mouth as he stares vacantly at the shiny black screen of the TV. He can see the two of them and their living room crudely reflected in its surface. 

“If the kiss is bad, does that mean I can take as many from you as I want until I feel like your loser’s debt is paid up?” Dave asks and he grabs Karkat’s hand, kissing his fingertips, his hand, his wrist, all with a slowness and devotion until Karkat yanks his hand away. 

“That’s enough, I don’t want to play the game anymore,” Karkat announces, his voice wavering though resolute, his eyes glassy and about to spill translucent pink-tinged tears. “This sort of thing, shouldn’t be a game…” 

Dave sighs and nearly collapses back to his side of the couch, giving up, but the sight of Karkat’s eyes glistening stabs him deep. It feels like he can’t breathe. He wraps his arm around Karkat’s shoulders, for the first time feeling the skin of his arms against Karkat’s skin. He’s so warm, so delicate. “You idiot, who would even agree to a game like this and then treat it like it’s only a game? Only an asshole would do that, and while I admit I’m a fucking prick sometimes, I’m not actually that much of an asshole. I actually care about you, Karkat. I actually… I actually love you, you know? I love you.” 

Karkat makes a choked sound, clinging tightly to Dave, “As a bro?” 

“Yes, but also as so much more than that. You saved my life, dude. Now I can’t imagine my life without you. Why do you think I moved in with you? I don’t want to spend one day without you ever again. You’re everything to me, Karkat, you’re my entire world, you’re my universe, I love you, I love you, I love you,” Dave stutters, fighting back tears of his own, squeezing Karkat with all his intent of purpose. 

Karkat feels something relax inside him, some fear that had been tying him slowly in knots since his time on the meteor with Dave. With it comes tears that flow onto Dave’s shirt, staining it. He tries to wipe them but Dave holds him close and steady and he’s unable to move, so he just accepts it. He sobs quietly until he can manage a croaky, “I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly I jammed this out as one of what will be soon, my many, attempts to overtake Davekat as the top Karkat ship over Johnkat. Thank you so much for reading it.


End file.
